We Call

 

We call to each other in “fluent transparent animal.”*

I might be gone from the living and this is the

Bardo.

We call, all the souls here with me,

waiting to move on, wanting to move on.

Not wanting to move on.

I am not thinking about breathing for once.

The others here are transparent like the fish tank in Monterey.

I want to say I knew it would be like this

but my lips do not exist just as I forgot how sensitive

they used to be when still alive.

I seem to be in the middle level as high up I see a light

Like a military searchlight it shivers me.

There is no apparent order

No signage

No music or noise

The volume is turned off.

It’s very pleasant here and waiting isn’t wanting.

 

 

*a prompt from Diane’s writing class